To Look Is Not To See
by Princess Sammi
Summary: 'Glinda stared down in disbelief at the spot The Wicked Witch of The West had been stood in mere moments before, fully expecting to see her standing there now, but it was empty.'


**Disclaimer: I don't own Wicked ... more's the pity :(**

 **A/N: I am a massive musical theatre geek, and none more so than Wicked. This one shot was born after seeing the show for the 5th time.**

 **There are A LOT of stories in this little corner of fan fiction, so I hereby apologise profusely if this story treads on anyone's toes.**

 **Cheers to my good friend, Typical RAinbow, for reading the very first draft of this for me. :)**

 ***Sammi hits publish before she loses her nerve***

* * *

 **To Look Is Not To See**

Glinda stared down in disbelief at the spot The Wicked Witch of The West had been stood in mere moments before, fully expecting to see her standing there now, but it was empty.

Almost.

The only indication that anyone had been present at all was the little, green bottle lying innocently on the ground. Next to the elixir, sat a sickeningly familiar black and pointy hat. In many ways, it was rather fitting. After all, that hat had played a large part in the beginning of the unlikely friendship, so it seemed only right that it had a role in the end.

Although it felt like time had come to a complete standstill, her heart practically falling out of her chest with grief, the seconds had continued to tick by, the Time Dragon not stopping to give a tick tock that precious lives had just been lost.

Fiyero.

Boq.

Nessarose.

Elphaba.

"Oh, Elphie,"

A solitary tear trickled down her cheek as she retrieved the item of headwear that had once been given as nothing more than a cruel joke, actually deriving an odd sense of security from the battered material that was now clutched ferociously in her shaking hands.

It really was the most hideodeous of hats, and yet, somehow, it had suited Elphaba to a t! Not that Elphaba Thropp had ever been one to give a twig about what anyone thought of her.

Despite the grave situation, a small smile found its way to Glinda's lips as she recalled the night of the Ozdust Ball: the night they had finally become friends.

Over the years, Galinda Upland — as she was known back then — had had many confidantes: admirers, cohorts, silly witches who would cling to her every word, telling her at every available opportunity how wonderful she was, but a _real friend_ had never been included in that mix.

Until Elphaba.

 _Elphie._ The only one who had truly mattered. _Her best friend_. Now, she was gone _. Dead._ Her life cut short by those who they had once thought would help. A brilliant mind and an even fiercer heart reduced to nothing more than a puddle on the floor.

 _"Use her sister."_ Her own words suddenly echoed in her mind. _"Spread a rumour. Make her think her sister is in trouble and she will fly to her side ... and you'll have her."_

... What had she done?

Glinda wanted to scream, to cry, to break down in that exact spot. She wanted never to leave it, couldn't bear the thought of anyone callously walking over where the green girl had once stood, but she knew that she couldn't. As hurt as she was with the outcome of recent events, she still had a job to do.

More important than that though, she had a promise to fulfil.

* * *

The guilty had been reprimanded, and now, it was up to her. As rumour and speculation rose, innuendo, outuendo, she knew she could hide no longer. Not when all of Oz were looking to her to _lie_ -be encouraging! To tell them what to do, tell them what was right, what was good even.

 _Good._

The very word stuck in her throat.

Another deep breath calmed her nerves as her bubble drew ever near to the large crowds that had gathered to hear the news. As she looked at the sea of people below her, all of them following her, listening without question, she had never felt more alone.

* * *

Fireworks exploded down in Oz as the Ozians whooped and cheered, dancing and celebrating long into the night that the _'wickedest witch there ever was'_ was finally dead.

From high up in her castle, Glinda watched.

Her normally bright, blue eyes were red and puffy from crying, her prized tiara discarded carelessly atop the dresser, and the dress that had started the day off as pristine was now dirty and crushed.

She didn't care.

The old Galinda would have been absolutely horrendified by her current appearance! She was no longer Galinda though. In truth, she hadn't been that superficial Upland girl for a long time now. And yet, neither was she: Glinda, The Good Witch of The North.

What did that title even mean?

Who was anyone to decide what goodness was?

... Who was she?

A girl who was secretly mourning the death of her best friend. That was who. Someone who had lost two of the people she had loved more than anything else in the entire world.

A broken woman.

 _'Heavy is the head that wears the crown'._

Loud squeals of laughter coming from down below suddenly broke into her thoughts, snapping her out of her reverie and bringing her back to reality. She looked over, sighing in exasperation at the sight before her. It seemed that one of the munchkins had gone and painted himself a rather crass shade of green, no doubt with face paint, and the rest of the citizens were taking it in turns to throw buckets of water over him, a rapturous applause quickly following as their target dramatically pretended to 'melt' to the ground.

Unable to watch the spectacle unfolding before her any longer, the blonde turned away from the window, nausea burning in her throat like torches of fire in the hands of the witch hunters who had previously tried to smoke the green girl out.

How could they call her wicked?

They hadn't even known her.

Elphaba Thropp wasn't the enemy of Oz.

No, she was merely the scapegoat.

* * *

It was all too easy to judge when you did not know the full story, when you weren't the one wearing the shoes. And where once she had been blind, now she could see how the lines could be blurred, the areas greyed, _finally_ understanding how two fates could be sealed simply by one's decision to go left, and the other right.

Glinda had often wondered what could have happened if she had gone with Elphaba that first time she was running. Would she have met the same end as her friend? Or, might things have turned out differently?

Now, she would never know.

"I'm sorry, Elphie. I'm so, so sorry."

She sank to the floor, desperately clutching onto the hat, telling herself that if she tried hard enough, then she could pretend it was Elphaba was she hugging. Sharp, awkward bones and all ... just one last time.

Alas, it seemed that for today, she had run of lies.

The hat stayed in her hands, unmoving and lifeless.

Silent.

Elphaba had never been any of those things.

 _Courage._

She had been brave.

She was the girl who had danced alone to no music, paying no heed to the laughs and jeers coming from all around her.

She was the girl who had potentially sacrificed her own place in Morrible's sorcery seminar all to get her annoying blonde roommate a spot as well, despite said annoying blonde roommate having been nothing but unwelcoming since the very first day of term.

 _Heart._

She was the girl who had wanted to help the animals.

The blonde witch could still remember how animatedly Elphaba had spoken during their long train journey to The Emerald City, could recall the passion in her eyes, her whole being practically lighting up at the thought of standing up for those who were without a voice. Those who were sidelined. Those who were different.

 _Brains._

She had been the only one smart enough to read that damn levitation spell. The one who had immediately stopped chanting when Chistery had clutched his back in agony. She was the one who had tried to stop it, had desperately tried to reverse it, unable to bear another soul crying out in such pain.

She was the girl who had _truly_ wanted to make a difference, only to end up the pawn in a twisted game.

* * *

A fresh bout of tears threatened to blur her vision as she delicately set the hat down on the ground next to her. Wiping away her tears, Glinda slowly cast her eyes around the room, taking in the numerous trinkets and treasures, the vanity table displaying the finest cosmetics that Oz had to offer, and the most beautiful ballgown. Freshly pressed, the rose pink creation hung on the back of the door, patiently awaiting its debut at her next public appearance, where the charade would commence once more.

Eventually, her gaze landed on the Grimmerie.

Despite her own feelings towards the horrendible book, the blonde witch felt somewhat calmed by the knowledge that the volume was safe in her possession and away from the clutches of the Wizard (useless as he was!)and his partner in crime, Madame Morrible.

Safe, it may have been, but useful?

If the situation wasn't so serious, she might have laughed. Here she was, in charge of one of _the_ most powerful books in existence, and she was unable to read a single word of its text!

 _"Well then, you'll have to learn,"_

Those had been Elphaba Thropp's _exact_ words as she had handed over the ancient spell book, practically _insisting_ that Glinda took it, mere moments before they had parted ways for, what would turn out to be, the final time.

Another sob caught in the back of her throat.

"Alright, Elphie," she whispered softly, a deep breath steadying her composure. "This is for you."

Deciding there was no time like the present, a sudden rush of determination washed over the Upland as she got to her feet, quickly crossing the room to fetch the Grimmerie from where it lay on the bedspread. Her fingers had just grasped around its spine and no more when she was hit by another sinking realisation.

There was no one left to teach her …

A loud bang from outside snapped her out of her wallowing, causing her to drop the book in her fright. As she picked it up, a loose sheet of paper fell from between the pages and floated gracefully to the floor like a leaf on a crisp autumn day.

Brow furrowing, Glinda carefully set the book to one side, before bending down to retrieve the fallen parchment.

* * *

A host of emotions flooded both mind and heart as the blonde quietly read the letter. Taking her time to drink it all in, her greedy eyes practically absorbed every last syllable on the page as she searched for answers she knew she would never find.

And yet …

No matter how hard she tried, the whisper in the back of her mind just _wouldn't_ be silenced. A familiar voice called out to her, telling her that she was missing out on something _very_ important within the contents of the letter.

Glinda forced herself to concentrate harder, secretly grateful for the distraction, not-so-secretly grateful for another reminder of her beloved Elphie, but it was all too much for the grieving witch to process.

* * *

Sleep that night was broken at best.

Her dreams were filled with red shoes and cyclones. She dreamt of scarecrows and hot air balloons. She dreamt of monkeys and emerald lights. She dreamt of Elphaba. Of her life, and her de-

 _Galinda._

Startled out of slumber by her own epiphany, Glinda snapped awake, a light turning on in more than just the room as she retrieved the letter from its hiding place.

It wasn't the uncharacteristic term of endearment that set the confusifying look upon her face as she stared at the spidery penmanship, her manicured nails gently tracing the outline of the letter "G". It was the way in which it had been addressed.

Or rather, the way that _she_ had been addressed.

Galinda.

Galinda ... with a Ga. A Ga that had been officially silenced several months ago.

Elphaba _knew_ that.

After all, she had been present the day the proclamation was made, had witnessed her changing her name all in a stupid attempt to impress Fiyero Tiggular. Even at their final meeting, earlier on that day, the green girl had called her 'Glinda' ... so _why_ in _Oz_ would she use 'Galinda' now?

It just didn't make any sense!

* * *

Not for the first time in her life, Glinda Upland wished that she was smarter.

Like Elphaba.

"Elphie would know what to do," she said aloud, speaking to no one in particular. "Even if she hadn't written it, she would just _know_ what this meant."

Attempting to channel the infamous verdigris prodigy, the blonde gently closed her eyes, willing herself to see what was right in front of her, to uncover truth that was hidden in plain sight amongst the letters on the page. Slowly, she opened her eyes.

Glinda immediately opened her mouth to say something, anything, but no utterances fell from her lips as she clutched the parchment tightly in her shaking hands.

Speechless.

She was utterly speechless.

It was as though she was looking with someone else's eyes, finally able to see all that she couldn't before. Blue eyes widened in disbelief, a tornado of emotions spinning in her mind as she realised what Elphaba had done.

It was all so obvious now.

Those — frankly, out of character — misspelled words, dropped like a trail of breadcrumbs in the woods, tidily setting out a path for her to follow as she became closer and closer to finding answers.

Answers that would all-too-quickly lead to many more questions.

 _Letters._

Letters added. Letters removed. Letters that on their own meant very little ... that was, until they were suddenly placed together.

Five letters.

One word.

* * *

That night, when almost all of Oz were celebrating the death of one witch, two were brought back to life.

* * *

 **A/N: I've always hated that it seems Glinda never gets to find out about Elphaba and Fiyero's whole 'not really being dead' thing, so thought I would fix that. :P Part of this was inspired by a scene in the movie 'A Series Of Unfortunate Events' - I'm sure you know the scene to which I refer. Thank you for reading :)**


End file.
